


Love in the Shadows

by AishaStark



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BAMF Draco Malfoy, F/M, General Bashing, M/M, Rare Pairings, Sweet little Luna
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:08:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24841300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AishaStark/pseuds/AishaStark
Summary: Draco meets Death, becomes a powerful wizard, gets a little sister and messes up plot lines.Enough said.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Death, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy, Narcissa Black Malfoy/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 73





	Love in the Shadows

**Author's Note:**

> I watched Dickinson and absolutely loved Wiz Khalifa's portrayal of Death. So here's a little random piece I thought of. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Comments are appreciated!
> 
> Cheers'

Sixth year,

Draco watched the scene before him impartially. Yes, there were innocent souls being tortured in front of him, and it made him want to there Rookwood and Dolohov apart. But doing so, would result in his own death. So he silently mouthed blessings as each soul departed, ensuring their journey to the Beyond was smooth and comforting. He could feel his true master's presence at his side, anger rolling off the being in waves. He felt long, thin fingers skim his lower back, before he disappeared. 

Draco dragged himself to his rooms. Warding it with every ward he knew and then a few none but him could tear down. He rushed through a shower, pulled on some briefs and slumped into bed, feeling his nerve endings and muscles knit back together. He'd be fine in a few hours, but he'd have to pretend otherwise or suffer Voldemort's wrath. There was a cold breeze and Draco tensed as a cold hand wandered down his back, stopping midway to trace the negative space tattoo there. A ghost horse, head thrown back proudly, mane whipping around. It practically glowed against his skin. "That's new. Looks like Hermes," the man chuckled, his voice was smooth with a hint of rasp, the accent American. "He inspired it," Draco murmured, glancing at his master. The man was tall, skin a dark chocolate. Black tattoos littered his body and a few scattered across his face. His teeth had glints of silver, and his black dreads reached his shoulders. He wore a black waistcoat with a shiny black jacket and slacks. He'd forgone his shades, top hat and black leather gloves. He black cane, with an embalmed red carnation on the top stood against the bed. "Death," Draco gasped as the being began to stroke his back, moving to his sensitive ribs. "My dragon," Death crooned in reply. "Not now," Draco forced out, wanting more than anything to give in to the being, finally being able to let down his walls and let himself be taken care of. But now was not the time. The hand hovered above his skin, "Of course," Death ceded. He stood up, towering over Draco's prone form, "Soon, my dragon, I will not let you go." When Draco looked back, he was gone. He slumped back onto his pillow. His body aching and straining with want and desire. He pushed it down, too tired to take his needs into his own hands and forced himself into a fitful rest.

Childhood years - The beginning

Death had been alone for many a century. Since the beginning of life. He'd never found anyone who'd keep his interest and desire to stay at his side for all eternity. The few he had fallen in love with, they left him a mere century after the passing of all their loved ones. Some only wanted him for the power, and others couldn't handle the expectations of being the Consort of Death. Then he'd found Draco. The blonde wizard had been twelve years old, on the verge of death, but his soul would not give in to his pull, the force of will so great, Death had decided to investigate. He had a bright soul, almost blinding, with the most tantalising shadows swirling in the midst like drops of paint in water, both in perfect harmony in this young body. So intriguing. And Death wanted it. It wasn't the boy's time anyway, someone else would have found and healed him, but Death decided he'd take it into his own hands. He had infused his own magic into the boy's soul, watching as it morphed into something stronger, something harder and darker. When the boy regained consciousness, not a scratch on his body, he found Death watching him, a few cloaked reapers staring in curiosity. "Draconis Lucius Malfoy," the ancient being, tasted the name on his tongue. "I gave you life when I should have taken it, and so you'll repay your debt with service," and the boy had nodded silently, acknowledging his master. And that had been that. Draco Malfoy had become Death's rider, he was Death's personal assassin, reaping those who tried to cheat his master, travelling numerous worlds and dimensions at his master's behest. Death hadn't spent much time with him until he was fifteen and began his duties officially, having started out by the side of his reapers, training and learning and honing his new skills. It was then, he began to fall for his executioner. At fifteen, Draco was mature, tall and handsome. His silver hair and near white hair a rarity in the darkness in his domain and a beacon in the night. He had developed a sense of sarcasm from his reapers and his own godfather, Severus Snape, and a sharp mind and killer reflexes after his in depth training every night since his rebirth. Death found it laughable none in the Wizarding World had noticed the change in the boy. But then, Draco's mask was formidable, if Death wasn't acquainted with his true self, he would have balked at the idea of having a spoilt brat like Draco under his wing. The boy downplayed his power and filled his puppet with hot air and empty threats. No one saw him as more, not even the Spy.

Draco often thought about what lead to his rebirth as a Rider. It all came down to his parents' infidelity towards each other. Draco had known since he was five, he wasn't an only child. He had taken a peak at the Malfoy tapestry once when his parents were entertaining guests and had left him to his own devices. He may have only been five, but he knew mother and father hated each other, he knew they didn't even particularly like him. His only company were the portraits of his grandparents, Abraxas and Lucille Malfoy, who always had time for their beloved grandson. He had known that he had bastard siblings, and by seven he knew who they were and where they were and how to avoid them like the plague. Unfortunately, his parents never truly paid attention to him, not knowing how observant and intelligent he was. Draco knew the only reason Lucius had picked that hotel in France was because it was close to his old mistress Ravenna. He also knew they wouldn't be staying long, because his house elf had informed him that the lady Ravenna had married and was very happy. Draco was pleased and resolved to avoid his father for the rest of their stay in Paris. He hadn't expected his mother to find out, throw a tantrum (like she was any better) and take out her anger on eight year old Draco. The elves had panicked upon seeing the rivulets of blood dripping from his hairline, drenching the white blonde a morbidly beautiful crimson, and had popped him to Ravenna. The woman had known who he was instantly, and Draco had three more members for his family, and more house elves at his disposal. Ravenna and her husband Carlisle taught him much, as he usually stayed with them whenever the Malfoy were in France, and Fallon, his half-sister, was the best older sibling in the universe. She taught him how to read people's attention and how to know someone wanted to take advantage of you. He adored her and Fallon basked in that adoration, protective of her sibling to her parents' fond amusement. 

It was Draco's meeting with his mother's children that had him on the brink of death. The three boys, two older at 16 and 14, and one younger at 10, had grown up with tales of the Malfoy splendour and how their mother was forced away by the cruel man of the castle to bear his sickly heir. While Draco had been visiting with Blaise in Italy, he had failed to notice the hostile eyes on him. The moment he had wandered off alone before they'd ambushed him. Quite a few torture spells later, they left him alone to die on the sand, a fistful of his hair for polyjuice, well assured their mother would be pleased with them. They didn't expect to see Draco in their home that night and what occurred would forever be branded into their minds. They never spoke of him again, their eyes would glaze over and their bodies would tremble every time someone mentioned their half-brother's name. If their father noticed he ignored it and their mother never noticed, hating to be reminded of the life she was forced into ( The life she had begged her parents for).

Draco slept well that night, assuring Blaise and Lady Zabini he had merely wandered off through the market in search for some pretty trinket for his mother. Blaise had believed him but Lady Zabini had watched him with sharp caramel eyes, seeing Death's touch on the boy. She had been well-acquainted with Death for many years. The Malfoy boy would only grow in power under the being's guidance, thankfully her son was one of the few Draco truly appreciated as a friend, she had little to worry about. Elantra smirked into her glass of wine, she couldn't say the same about Narcissa. 

Third year,

Draco sensed one of Death's Hallows, the moment he he saw Potter on the train in third year. He had been watching the dementors float around, scaring people with light amusement. Dementors were mostly reapers on probation, learning how to control their soul capturing abilities and how to scare the living daylights out of everyone they accounted. He smirked as one hovered too close to Fudge making the Minister jump and break into a cold sweat. They enjoyed themselves too much. He watched as Potter encountered a dementor, learning precisely what the boy heard when they came near. Draco could sympathise, if what his elves said was true. The boy had a shitty childhood and a shittier destiny. And he was a Hocrux! Potter would be Draco's duty the moment he finished his training and he was not looking forward to it. Potter was too eager for praise. Eager for acceptance. He was like a puppy, playing chess with Weasely so Weasley could trump him, letting Granger help with his homework because it help solidify her superiority complex and let little miss Weasel hang off him to satisfy her hero-worshipping tendency, all while ignoring his own needs and wants. 

Once the dementors left the train, most greeting him as they passed his car. He slipped out, wanting a moment away from the inane chatter, only to come face to face with a smaller girl, with hair as white as his and round, wide blue eyes. They widened when they found his, "You belong to Death," she whispered clutching her magazine to her chest. Draco stared at her in silence, she was most probably a seer, he could remove her memories and forget about this whole incident. But she looked so unafraid and well, cute, she was looking at him the same way he looked at Fallon when he was younger, and he sighed. Casting some strong wandless Notice-Me-Nots, he offered his hand, her eyes widened more, making her look like an owl, but she took it. He squeezed her tiny, delicate fingers. "Draco Malfoy," he stated. "Luna Lovegood", she replied. He gave a soft smile, "I now call you kin. We may wear masks in public, but if anyone hurts you. You come to me," he stated firmly. She nodded, before looking up at him shyly, "You'll be my friend?." Draco shook his head, making her eyes drop, "I'll be your brother," she brightened up and burrowed into him for a hug. He pressed a kiss to her hair and pushed her away. Eyes glinting with fondness, he watched as she skipped off. 

Lupin was a werewolf. Weasel's rat was an animagus. Sirius Black was not a Deatheater. And Hagrid was an idiot. Things Draco realised with his enhanced senses and magic sensitivity, well except the last bit. Draco had always known Hagrid was an idiot. The fool didn't seem to realise that some creatures like staying where they were and did not appreciate being caged and forced onto leashes or gawked at by children who enjoyed poking them. That was probably why the centaurs didn't like Hagrid. Speaking of which, he needed to speak to the centaurs, one of his reaper mentors had given him the task of finding out why many healthy centaurs were suddenly at the brink of death before their time. 

Draco looked at the boggart in amusement as it struggled to find his fear, finally flying back into its cabinet with frustration. Everyone looks to Lupin who was staring at him with awe. "Mr Malfoy doesn't seem to have a tangible fear and therefore the boggart had no form of defence against him," he explained. The Slytherins cheered while the Gryffindors glared. Draco merely shrugged and moved to the back so the rest could practice their spell work. He also mentally berated himself, that had been risky, he couldn't let himself be singled out in any way.

He was scratched by a hippogryph, it healed within ten minutes, though the glamour said otherwise. Why he had moved Goyle out of the way he had no clue. But now he was stuck in the hospital wing, forced to drink disgusting potions while Severus sneered at his 'weakness'. The only highlight of the matter was the fact it was easier for him to sneak out of the Hospital Wing window. Cloaked in shadows, he approached the Dark Forest, waylaid by Buckbeak, who bowed in apology. Draco merely scratched the beast's chin, earning a purr. He cut its leash and let it follow him into the Dark Forest. Ten minutes in, he pause and cocked his head, he ducked as an arrow flew past his ear embedding itself in the tree behind him. "Peace," he called hands up in deference. Centaurs walked out of the surrounding foliage. "What is a foal of Hogwarts doing in the forest?," Bane snarled. Removing his hood, the centaurs lowered their weapons, "I'm here on the behest of my Master to find what is plaguing the land and its folk," Draco stated. "Will you swear no harm to me and mine?," Magorian asked. "If you do the same." 

Draco sat in a tree, staring at the nest of Acromantula. Hagrid was an enormous fool, a constantly enlarging nest of mass reproducing man-eating spiders? And Dumbledore allows it to remain? He made his way back to the centaur camp where Buckbeak was being groomed by some foals. "I'll have to take care of the nest, perhaps by the next full moon. I need to confer with my teachers," Draco stated sheepishly. "You are young yet," Magorian smiled giving him a bowl of savoury soup. "What is to be the fate of Buckbeak?," Bane asked patting the beast's wings. Draco frowned, "Execution, if my father's dramatics have anything to say about it. But, perhaps we could save them the trouble," Draco stood. The foals whinnied in distress, tears in their eyes as they clung to the hippogryph's coat. Draco's eyes widened," I'm not going to kill him," Draco assured them, he cast a particularly strong spell at the beast, and they watched as the golden feathers turned a dark red, the tip of its wings turning black. Draco swept up the golden feathers that had fallen off during the grooming. "It seems to me like like Buckbeak strained and snapped his leash wandering into the forest only to meet a hungry spider," Draco smirked. Bane chuckled, "You truly are a foal of Lord Slytherin." "Indeed but its time for the young foal to return to his bed," Magorian declared. Draco nodded and wished them all a good night before making his way to his bed. 

His breakfast was interrupted by the sobbing of a half-giant who didn't want to believe his beloved Spiders could have eaten his Buckbeak. Although that was what the evidence pointed to. Draco looked certifiably smug. Everyone assumed it was because the hippogryph was dead and he didn't correct them.

Luna would sometimes find him. After curfew, when she'd been locked out of her dorm. She'd find him practicing with a reaper in the Room of Requirement, dementors milling about as they gossiped. They didn't affect the blonde, thanks to Draco's claim, so they watched her instead. Scaring the wits out of her tormentors. Luna would fall asleep listening as Draco learned the extent of his abilities. Draco would deposit her in her bed at the end of his lesson. No one could figure out how Loony kept waking up in her bed when they locked her out. They stopped nicking her things, as they began sprouting bright purple pimples that spelled out 'Thief', across their foreheads and on their cheeks. The spells only dissipated when they confessed their sins to a Professor. Flitwick wasn't pleased and gave Luna points for ingenuity. Luna gave Draco a crown of flowers and butterbeer corks, which he wore during one of his training sessions, despite the teasing. Luna smiled as brightly as the sun. 

Draco gave the black dog a brief glance as he walked down the corridor. Pettingrew had escaped and the dementors were hunting for Black. Draco momentarily wondered what Dumbledore's plan was for getting Black to safety. Why not just clear his name? Demand a trial because he was never given one and ask for veritaserum. He also had to wonder about Granger's time turner. One of the dementor's had found it at the clearing after they were warded off by a Stag Patronus, Potter probably, and the time turner now rested safely at the bottom of his trunk. 

The year had been passable. He'd taken care of the Acromantula nest, forged a good relationship with the centaurs while saving a hippogryph, was well on his way to be a good Rider, botched Dumbledore's plans and made Luna smile. Hopefully next year would be as fun.

Fourth year,

Draco rolled his eyes. The Triwizard tournament? After what happened at the Quidditch World Cup? Wasn't that a terrible idea. The tournament was infamous for killing students. Draco had no doubt Potter would find himself involved somehow. He narrowed his eyes at the head table. Moody smelled like polyjuice. Draco sniffed, maybe he could practice his ability to relieve bodies of their souls from a distance this year. He didn't like the whispers of sorrow and pain surrounding the man. Whoever he was, he was no Auror. 

Luna curled up by Draco, telling him of Wackspurts and the such. He listened seriously trying to decode her meaning. "I assume we should do something about Moody," he stated as she paused. She gave him a beatific smile, "I want to meet the centaurs," she said. He nodded. Draco watched as Luna listened to one of the mares as she told stories about the constellations, cuddled between the other foals. "Something bothers you Rider," Bane stated. "The things I have to do without being suspected of doing them. The two schools are arriving next week," he hummed. "You are not alone," Firenze stated. When he didn't elaborate, Draco internally shrugged, centaurs were cryptic as hell but at least they weren't predicting your death every ten minutes. 

Draco stared at Barty Crouch Jr., ignored his ravings about the Dark Lord and concentrated. He saw the dark pulse of his soul and concentrated on pulling it away from its sickly vessel. Crouch's yelling grew in intensity as fear filled him before silence fell and Crouch's lifeless body slumped to the floor. Draco grimaced, not as fast or clean as he would have liked, but anyone who examined him would find he died of a heart attack. Draco even left the trunk open so they'd find the real Moody. 

Oddly enough, Potter didn't manage to get involved in the tournament. No the champion for Hogwarts was Cedric Diggory. Draco truly couldn't care less. He'd bigger fish to fry. Hagrid had wept a river after finding his beloved Aragog dead and the nest gone. He had blamed the centaurs and Dumbledore had been forced to restrain him and send him to Madame Pomfrey for a vat of calming draught. The oaf still blubbered whenever he glanced at the Forest. Draco managed to find the Ravenclaw Diadem. He placed it securely in his trunk alongside the time turner. If his arithmancy calculations were right, he'd be able to gift his master Voldemort by his fifth year. He had the diadem, he'd salvaged the soul from the diary before his father got rid of it and trapped it in a Christmas bauble. He'd get Helga's cup and the locket during the holidays. He just needed a way to get the snake and of course the piece trapped in Potter. 

Draco sneaked into the Gryffindor dorm using the shadows. Finding his way to Potter's bed, he wordlessly and wandlessly cast strong sleeping spells on the boys before adding silencing spells to the room. He took a deep breath and pressed his hand to Potter's scar. Pain crawled up his hand and into his body, but he grit his teeth and continued to chant letting his power unroot the soul and pulled it out of its unwilling vessel. As it got looser, Potter's own magic began to help by pushing, and soon Draco had a virulent piece of parasitical soul trying to choke him. He banished it to another magic infused Christmas bauble and removed the spells on the room and boys. Cast a final glance at a sleeping Potter before disappearing into the shadows. He needed a scalding bath and a power nap. 

Draco watched the commotion with amusement. Potter's scar seemed to have healed and disappeared. Dumbledore looked a mixture of livid and terrified. Everyone else seemed to be convinced the Dark Lord was dead and that Potter was a normal kid. Potter looked confused but ecstatic. Draco ignored the whispers around him, throwing out some absurd theory now and then to satisfy the sharks. Severus looked oddly relieved.

The tournament ended with Krum as the victor. Draco managed to find his way into Gringotts and the goblins were more than happy to allow him to exorcise Helga Hufflepuff's cup. Kreacher was more than pleased to send Draco Salazar's locket, before Sirius banned him from leaving the house. And Luna was happy to decorate the collection of Christmas baubles. He now had five decorated baubles filled with pieces of Voldemort's soul. He also had a tiara, a locket and fancy cup. He gave them to Fallon. At nineteen, she worked as a curator of magical artefacts for Gringotts France, she was more than pleased to take them off his hands. It was a month of very pleased people, ignoring his parents of course. They seemed to be in an eternal state of fear, probably due to the fact the Dark Mark was darkening.

Fifth year,

Umbridge was a bitch and if the pink toad even looked at Luna wrong, he would liberate her pink soul form her atrociously pink toad-like body. He was getting quite good at his job. He could control people with a glance, manipulate their emotions and look through their minds, processing all the information in a few seconds before delivering their sentence - the Beyond or Purgatory. He could reap up to a hundred souls at once and reaping creatures came easily to him. He'd learnt to sense imbalances in the scale of life and death and to pinpoint the location of specific souls. Thus, how he came into possession of another of Voldemort's soul piece, and a Deathly Hallow. The ring and the stone. The soul banished into a decoration, the ring sent to France and the Resurrection Stone hidden somewhere only he could find.

The Inquisition squad was a bore and a waste of time. Giving power to the likes of Parkinson, Crabbe and Goyle. Stupidity at its finest. But it worked in his favour, he had more freedom to wonder around and if he got caught by prefects, which he never did, he was safe from point deductions and other punishments. Between spending their time trying to find Potter's hidey-hole and making sure all of the Toad's ridiculous commandments were obeyed, Draco found himself getting annoyed. He had less time to work on his 'graduation' project, and his reaper mentors were get annoyed with his shortening temper. 

When he found out that Potter's little group had been found. He made his way to the Forbidden forest, well aware of what the Toad's punishment would be. He quickly found the centaur's camp and enlisted help in finding the required medicinal herbs he needed. He'd be damned if Luna, or any other kid, ended up permanently scarred by the psychopath. "A giant?," Draco gaped at Bane who threw his head back in annoyance. "A giant. It almost ate one of our foals and yet no one will do anything about it. Even as we move our camp, he keeps finding us and trying to attack and consume us. We cannot keep moving as winter draws near," the centaur stated bitterly. Draco furrowed his brows and sighed, "I guess Hagrid's new pet project is about to meet the same end as his spiders," Draco hummed. He hadn't relieved a being of its soul in a while, there was an itch under his skin.

A dead giant, and a crime scene set for even the most oblivious, Draco made for the Room of Requirement. He spent the night brewing copious amounts of a self-formulated skin healing salve and sent the reapers to place them in the dorm rooms of those affected with instructions. Then he appeared in Umbridge's rooms. As she slept, he gingerly placed a hand on her forehead, his skin crawling at the touch, but he persevered. Delving into her memories and thoughts. Draco let go with a hiss. The woman was almost as bad as Voldemort with her hatred of halfbloods and muggleborns. Masquerading as a pureblood even as she herself was a halfblood with a muggle mother and squib brother. Draco bit back a growl, he could still see the body river seeping from the cut in Luna's hand. He took a deep breath and watched as Umbrigde woke with a scream as she was burnt form the inside out. In her mind, all her fantasies of torture played out but with her as the main star instead of those she loathed. 

They found her body the next day. Aurors and healers confirmed she dies of a heart attack. Her indulgence of copious amounts of all things sweet, sugary and alcoholic had finally caused her body to give out. Fudge was disappointed, students and professors relieved. Draco wasn't exactly pleased with their professors, was the threat of being fired greater than the well-being of hundreds of students? None of them spoke up. You'd think they'd take better care of their students. All they did was turn a blind eye and tell them to keep their head down. Dumbledore was returned to the school due to the clamouring of parents and another Defence Professor was instated, an old ex-auror. He was a boring old man but at least they could use their wands. 

Draco was returning to his dorm, having sent Luna to bed as his training ended, when he heard the reluctant whinnying of the threstrals. He frowned and kept to the shadows as he made his way to their paddock. He could see Potter, Granger, Longbottom and the two youngest Weasleys attempting to mount them. Potter looked absolutely terrified and he kept pressing his fist to his healed scar. Draco frowned, the soul piece had been removed completely, so he doubted Potter had any kind of connection with Voldemort. Then he heard the female Weasley muttering with wide eyes, "We need to hurry. He has my parents and Sirius. We NEED to get to the Ministry NOW!," she ended in a shriek. Draco sighed, "Looks like Weaslette still had some residual connection to the snake nosed bastard. Draco knew the threstrals were aware of him and made his hand into a fist, they immediately laid down, snapping at the teens as they tugged and prodded. If the imbeciles were't smart enough to alert Dumbledore, he was not going to let them kill themselves. Luna would be miserable. Knowing that the threstrals where at the verge of stampeding as the Gryffindors would NOT give up and find a fucking adult. Draco cast an incredibly strong sleeping spell on them. As their eyes closed and they laid on the grass, snores filling the air, Draco approach the paddock. Stroking the manes of the skeletal winged horses, he found summoned rats from the forest, letting them chase the rodents before snapping them in half with their beaks and swallowing them whole. Draco wondered about the Hall of Prophecies, then reprimanded himself, he was not going to be a reckless Gryffindor. But it was useless, the itch was under his skin. Curiosity won the battle over rationality and he gave the nearest threstral a soft pat on the head before walking through the shadows of the trees, the Hall of Prophecies in mind.

Draco watched as his father led the ambush, waiting impatiently for the teens to burst in wands blazing. That wasn't going to happen. He watched as it got later, and riskier for them to remain and were eventually forced to leave. Draco followed in Rabastan's shadow. He watched as they arrived at Malfoy Manor and as Voldemort ripped into their minds before torturing them ruthlessly. But Draco's eyes were on Nagini. The snake was coiled by Voldemort's feet, gazing at the screaming Death Eaters lazily, tongue licking out now and then. It was too risky for Draco to remove the Hocrux with Voldemort present but he could wait. Tomorrow was Saturday and no one would dare interrupt his beauty sleep. He waited till Nagini disappeared to hunt, watched as she stalked one of his father's prized albino peacocks. Before she could strike, he charmed her asleep and extracted the should piece before slitting her throat and leaving her outside Bellatrix's room. He had the seven hocruxes, all that was left was to wait for the Eve of Yule. 

Draco heard from Luna about the group of Gryffindors having some odd nightmare that resulted with them spending the night in the Threstral paddock. They were raving about the Weasley parents being held by Death Eaters only to faint when said parents flooed in to check on them and assure the teens they were very much alive. There were rumours going around that they'd indulged muggle drugs, courtesy of Granger, and wandered out of the castle for an orgy under the stars. It was amusing, watching how red the five got when someone asked if it was true. 

Christmas arrived and thankfully the castle was almost empty, even Potter and his groupies were gone. Luna had to leave too, but not before giving him a long hug and her gift. Draco hadn't opened it but he hoped Luna liked the trip he had arranged for her and her father to visit Switzerland, as well as some quality painting supplies. That night, he stood with a few of his reaper masters, the seven Christmas baubles in front of him. With a deep breath, he began to summon death.

Death looked at his Rider with surprise. He hadn't been able to pay the boy much attention, trusting his reapers to teach him the ropes and his duties. Time was inconsequential to Death and apparently years had flown by apparently and in front of him stood a confident young man who had grown into his power. In front of him were seven whimsically decorated Christmas baubles. He looked at the blonde questioningly. "A gift my Lord, the seven broken pieces of Tom Riddle's soul," Draco stated. Death summoned one into his hand and sighed as the thing pulsed with dark magic. His grip tightened on the object, he would enjoy burning them. The man who cheated him would meet this painful end soon and Death would savour every scream and shriek as his hellhounds tore him apart, day after day after day, for the rest of his eternity. He turned his eyes back to his rider, eyes filled with lust. The gift was something Death had been after for years. A gift of this proportion, a courting gift. Death smirked, he hadn't originally meant to make Draco his consort, but after what the man had done for him. Death couldn't imagine letting the man go. He noticed the blonde gazing fondly at the painted baubles. "I must admit," Death crooned, noting his rider's shiver with delight, "the gift is truly perfect, but the packaging a little bright for my taste." Draco gave a soft, fond smile that set Death's nerves on the edge, "Luna painted them, I can never truly say no to her. My little seer," Draco rolled his eyes, missing his sister and wondering if she was enjoying her holiday, momentarily forgetting Death's presence. Death found anger settling into the depths of his ancient bones. He did not know who his Rider spoke of but he would not have his Consort-to-Be belonging to anyone but him. 

Draco found himself pinned to the stone wall of the Astronomy Tower. The stones digging into his back as Death pressed the entire length of his body against Draco's. Draco bit back a groan as his cheeks filled with blood. "I have accepted your courting gift, and you will be mine. I DO NOT share my dragon. You will belong to me, only me," Death growled into his ear. Draco nodded, mind speeding to process the information. He could live with that, belonging to this ancient, powerful being for the rest of eternity. He tipped his head back against the stone, eyes closed as he tried to temper his breathing and ignore his hardening cock and the hard arousal of the being pressed against him, heavy and hot on his thigh. "I am not a prize," he forced out. He gasped as a warm mouth attached itself to his pale neck, working to leave a mark. "No, you are to be my consort, my equal and I will cherish you my darling for eternity," Death purred against his throat. Death pulled his head away, grabbing Draco's chin with gloved fingers, he looked the blonde in the eyes. Draco could see millennia of wisdom and power in those eyes, and deeper still he could see honesty and loneliness. "Luna is my sister. Not my lover, haven't had time for one. But I will accept your offer,"Draco whispered. The Ancient one smirked and pressed his lips against Draco's before vanishing in a swirl of shadows. Draco slumped to the floor of the now empty Astronomy Tower. He could honestly say that was not how he expected his offering to go. Not that he had regrets, now he was being courted by one of the most powerful beings in the universe. One who would protect him, wouldn't hurt him. Draco pressed a hand to the mark on his neck, hissing at the pleasurable ache. No, he had no regrets at all.

Sixth year,

Draco stared at the Mark on his arm impassively. It would be so easy to burn it off. His skin and magic would be free of the disgusting leech. But doing so would result in the death of his parents and his godfather. And while he cared little for his parents, he was somewhat fond of his godfather. Even if the dark man was a condescending asshole to him due to the way he acted. If his sources were accurate, which they were, Severus was under Vow to help him achieve his task of killing Dumbledore. Now here was the conundrum. Did he just liberate the Old Goat's soul as he sat in the Great Hall or did he stick to his 'helpless rich boy' persona and draw it out with poor murder attempts, make it seem like he was getting desperate and letting Severus get involved. Draco hummed to himself, maybe Luna would know? 

Luna was bright eyes and smiles when he found her. Apparently the trip had gone marvellously and she had loved the painting supplies. Then she had looked closely at Draco and clapped her hands with a cheerful chirp, claiming that Lord Death would take marvellous care of him. Draco had to fight down a blush as she asked him what they got up to in the Astronomy Tower. Evading her question with his conundrum, he sat back and watched his seer sister contemplate his options.

"Just get rid of him. Professor Snape has enough on his plate without having the murder of Dumbledore added to it," Luna said after a while. "Snape will know I did it. He'll feel the Vow release him," Draco frowned. "You don't have to tell him how you did it. This war is taking much too long maybe we should just topple the hierarchy," Luna shrugged innocently. "Get rid of Dumbledore and Voldemort then?," Draco asked amused. "Pick them off one by one," Luna sweet smile seemed a little feral in the shadowed compartment. "I've corrupted you," there was pride in Draco's voice and Luna beamed at him in response. 

It was halfway through the first month of school and Draco had spent most of it avoiding both Potter and Snape. Potter seemed to think that Draco was marked and up to something. Which was technically true, but Draco was starting to get aggravated with his invisible shadow. Meanwhile, Severus kept trying to talk to Draco about his task. Draco had meant to wait until the middle of term to off Dumbledore, but with the two idiots dogging his every move, he finally snapped one lunch. He could feel the heavy gazes on him as he sipped his soup, one emerald green and one pitch black. His temper started to rise, and he turned to speak to Blaise, he was fairly certain the Italian boy knew what he was but he hadn't changed his attitude towards him and Draco was grateful for his one true friendship in Slytherin. Blaise indulged him in some inane chatter about his mother's most recent beau, and Draco reached out to grasp at Dumbledore's oily lemon-scented soul. The screams of anguish and the scent of blood and lemon was heavy in Draco's senses but he preserved, the Old Goat seemed to have picked up on something and his magic was fighting the pull. But Draco was a full-fledged Reaper, he pulled the soul out of the wrinkled husk and remained looking at Blaise when he heard Dumbledore's empty body fall face-first into his bowl.

He pulled on the facade of surprised and scared student as McGonagall, countenance ashen, declared him dead. He looked up and met Severus' obsidian eyes, the man was shocked and the expression slipped though his usual mask of indifference. Draco cocked his head at the man, he never really knew if he could trust his godfather, the two-faced spy. He sometimes wondered that if a choice had to be made between him, the child he promised to protect, and Potter, the son of his dead love, who he'd choose.

Now as the Great Hall grew in noise and the Professor's hard-pressed to reinstate calm. Draco didn't expect Potter to whip out his want and curse him with one of Severus' one spells. Luckily, Blaise did and pulled Draco down just in time, instead the curse hit some armour, shredding it to pieces of metal. The Great Hall silenced immediately and looked between him and Potter. Potter looked relatively shocked at the result of the spell but continued to march towards Draco accusations flowing form his lips like water from a tap. "Mr Potter. I understand you are distraught, but there is no excuse for throwing dangerous curses and accusing your classmate," McGonagall shrieked, the Scot woman's famous composure crumbling under the unexpected circumstance. "He's a bloody Deatheater and he's the reason Dumbledore is dead!," Potter yelled. Everyone stared at him. Draco was fairly certain he looked certifiably terrified, even if he was mentally chuckling. "Surely, you don't believe him! That's absolute blasphemy," Draco stuttered out, trembling lightly. McGonagall approached with her wand out. As did Flitwick and Sprout. "Now Mr Malfoy, kindly pull up your sleeves," she instructed. Draco frowned and backed up," Surely that isn't necessary," he tried, one for his sleeves to pull themselves up to his shoulders. 

There was a great loud gasp. Even Severus was staring at his forearm with wide eyes. Draco pulled downhill sleeves with a glare, "Anything else you require of me Professor?," Draco asked. "Not at the moment Mr Malfoy," McGonagall nodded. Potter stared at him with incredulity," But you're a DeathEater. You have to have the Mark," he yelled in disbelief. "I assure you Potter it is impossible to glamour the Mark. The Aurors would agree. Everybody to your Common Rooms, the Auror need space and quiet to work," Severus demanded. The Great Hall was empty within minutes.

Draco smirked at his bare forearm, all he had left was Voldemort and all his little cronies. There was a whisper of a an icy breeze and there was a an arm around his waist and another in his hair. Draco swallowed nervously as his head was tilted back, neck exposed to the being behind him. "You've been busy my dragon," Death purred against the trembling figure in his arms. "Not for much longer," Draco moaned as sharp teeth nipped at his Adam's apple. "I'm getting impatient my darling. So lets make a deal," there was a soft swoosh and Draco found himself on his bed, Death reclining beside him. Long bony fingers traced figures on the skin of his hip as Death watched him. "What kind of deal?," Draco asked in a mere whisper, savouring his soon-to-be-lover's presence. "I'll pay Tom a personal visit and upon his death, his followers die with him". "Only those who willingly followed him, those forced or reformed get another chance," Draco haggled. Death grinned,"In return, you will bond to me under the next full moon." Draco blinked at the being before nodding shyly," We have a deal." Death laughed and pressed a fiery kiss to his beloved's lips," That we do my darling, that we do."

The Ministry was at an absolute loss when a dead Dark Lord and his followers appeared in its halls. Those who had been coerced and blackmailed into taking the mark or regretted their allegiances were found with bare forearms, free from their mistakes at long last. Rufus Scrimgeour led the clean up and was nominated to be Minister once Fudge was found among the dead. The Wizarding World mourned and celebrated and moved on. Potter was now a normal student and McGonagall became Headmistress of Hogwarts. Draco wasn't surprised to find his parents dead and himself the new Lord Malfoy. He merely had Luna named his heir and ward off his house. Luna had been delighted and as a result insisted on helping him pick out his bonding robes.

He was in his dorm room trying out another designer robe, when Severus approached him. If the man was supervised to find Luna and Blaise on his bed, flipping through clothing catalogues, he didn't show it. "Can I help you Professor?," Draco asked, as the man took in the blonde's robes. "Preparing for something Draco?," Snape asked. Draco almost rolled his eyes at the man. "Yes, my bonding ceremony," he turned to the two on his bed," I don't like the colour." "The silver-black fade would have been better," Blaise stated, Luna nodded as she scribbled something on the catalogue. "You two out," Snape demanded. They didn't move, instead looking to Draco, who merely looked unimpressed. "Whatever you need to say to me _Severus_ , you can say in front of them," he stated calmly. Snape glowered and cast silencing spells and other wards around the room," Very well then." "Before you begin Severus, a Vow if you would," Draco interrupted and watched carefully as the man vowed on his magic not to repeat anything that was said. "How did you kill him?," Snape asked. "I pulled the soul from his body," Draco replied as he changed into another set of robes. "And the Dark Lord, your parents?," Severus practically spat. "My fiancé," Draco hummed, admiring his refection. "You have second chance Snape, don't waste it on the past," Draco interrupted the man's brooding. "Now if you'll excuse me. I have bonding ceremony to get to.

Thee wizarding ceremony was beautiful, the only witnesses being Luna, Blaise, Fallon, Ravenna and Carlisle. They said their vows, danced and ate cake. The true bonding took place that night under the full moon, in a bed of shadows, where skin moved desperately against skin. Lips and teeth and bodies entangled in an age old dance that brought them closer, always wanting more, faster and deeper. A moment that lasted too long and ended too quickly. A union blessed by magic. A love eternal sealed under the light of the silvery moon. Two hearts that would never be alone again.

End.


End file.
